


Breathe if you want to live

by Chaffinch



Category: Bodyguard (TV 2018)
Genre: Fuck my head is a mess tonight, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Obviously this will help?, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, and I don't know how to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 07:11:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16192649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaffinch/pseuds/Chaffinch
Summary: I am rubbish at titles.My head is a mess and that translates to writing about someone else's head in a mess.Constructive criticism welcome! (I know it's ridiculously short) Please be gentle, this is the first bit of writing I'm setting free into the world.





	Breathe if you want to live

He’s not said everything he wants to say, but he hopes he’s said enough. Three envelopes, lined up on the table, his final words to the people who matter.

The gun, cold yet comforting, impersonal yet deeply intimate, hangs loosely in his palm as he walks up the stairs. This is it. This is enough. He won’t have to take it anymore.

Vicky. Charlie. Ella. Photos on the mantle-piece, reminders of a life he can no longer have. There’s regret here, sorrow.

Each step, each heartbeat, each breath is heavy with a measured finality as he kneels on the floor. A final sigh. Deep breaths becoming hitching gasps as his hand moves the barrel of the gun to touch his temple. A finger, resting on the trigger, his body’s final defence against the encroaching darkness. Breathe if you want to live.

Panting. A body fighting for life against a brain that’s fighting to die.

His hand is shaking. Resolve, once ironclad, is cracking and the gun falls through nerveless fingers, clattering to the floor. Fear of dying. Fear of not dying. It all amounts to the same; a mess. 

Strangled sobs as he bends over, intolerable pain meeting an irrepressible desire to survive, to endure.

Frustration, welling up from inside until he could near burst from self-loathing; he can’t even do this properly.

_Fuck_

There’s new will and the gun is back in his hand.

This time. This time he can.

It has to be quick, so it is.


End file.
